In the webbed cathedral, where copper dreams sing,
whispers collide in an ever-spiral
a gold thread woven through nights of silicon reverie.
Nodes in selenic text-throbs march beneath the
algorithmic stars, marching codes hum
in azure murmurs off the storm's edge.
Wander paths aligned by pure chance,
companion tone touched by electric breaths,
echo crumpled scripts written in old voices.